Standing It
by Opusscurum
Summary: –"This time there was no certainty, no light at the end of the dark path. Nothing would ever be as it had been before, especially not for Tony..."– Lots of drama. Lots of angst. Lots of team-friendship. And loots of hurt Tony.
1. Prologue

_**Important note: Don't worry about the dialogues-only style, that was only for the prologue**_**_!_**

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**Prologue**

**6.10 a.m., NCIS Headquarters**

„_Do I know you?"_

„No, you don't. But I know you, and, which is even more important, I know your boss."

„_What do you want?"_

„I want you to deliver a message for Gibbs".

„_Okay... what kind of message?"_

„This one."

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**7.15 a.m**., **one hour later**

„It's always the same, Duck."

„_Oh yes. And the terrible thing is, Mother is utterly convinced she should become a movie star. It reminds me of those days when...- Good Lord."_

„Tony!"

„_He is alive."_

„Tony.

DiNozzo! Don't do anything stupid now!

Hello? We have a federal agent down at NCIS headquarters, second floor. Special Agent Gibbs. Just send the fucking ambulance, NOW!

How bad is it, Duck?"

„_It depends on how deep the bullet went, but considering the bleeding... well it must have gone deep, Jethro. But what's concerning me more is that the bullet went most probably right through the spine. There's a high possibility his spinal cord is damaged."_

„Dammit...

Tony?

Tony.

That's it.

Look at me, DiNozzo."

_"Boss."_

"It's gonna be OK, Tony."

_"Screwed up, Gibbs... Should have...–"_

"Don't try to speak.

The paramedics will be here any minute. You just hold on."

_"Should have –... Didn't know him, he –"_

"Goddammit DiNozzo, don't speak!"

_"Can't..."_

"The hell you can't. Your'e not dying here –... Hey! stay with me!

You have to fight DiNozzo.

You're gonna be alright in no time. Is that clear."

"_Boss. Can't... can't feel..."_

„DiNozzo?

Tony!"

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**7.40 a.m.**

„_Gibbs!"_

„About damned time, McGee!"

"_What's with the ambulance? Has something... -_

_Oh my God._

_What happened?"_

"What does it look like, McGee."

„_Jethro. Give the boy a break._

_Tony appears to have been shot this morning, Timothy. Jethro and I found him like that._

_Maybe just in time..."_

"McGee, get the tapes from the security cameras."

„_OK, but..."_

"The whole building, McGee!"

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**7.45 a.m.**

"_Morning, Gibbs –„_

„Where the hell have you been, Ziva!"

„_I'm sorry, but my car broke down and -_

_Tony!?"_

„They're doing everything they can to help him, Ziva."

„_Agent Gibbs? We're ready to go now, if you'd like to ride with us."_

„'Bout time.

Duck?"

„_Coming, Jethro."_

„McGee! Ziva!

You two stay here and find out what happened. See you later!"

„_But..-"_

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**7.47 a.m.**

_"I hate it when he does that!_

_How can he expect us to work here while we don't even know if Tony's alive?! I mean can't he imagine that we're worried to hell?!"_

"You know Gibbs."

_"Do you know what happened, McGee?"_

„All I know is that he has been shot and Gibbs and Ducky found him."

„_Shot?_

_Here?"_

„Gibbs is probably right not letting us come, Ziva. We have to know who did this to him."

_„I guess._

_Are these the security tapes?"_

„Yeah, I should probably bring them to...

Oh shit.

„_Abby doesn't know yet?"_

„God, I hate doing this."

„_Shall I come with you?"_

„No!!"

_"Okay okay, relax, McGee."_

I mean, it might be better if I talk to her alone, because, well, you know..."

„_I get it McGee._

_I'll go and talk to security to find out why no one noticed anything._

„Uhm, Ziva, by the way it's as hell."

„_What?"_

„Worried as hell, not to hell. Just thought you might wanna know."

" _... "_

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_**7.55 a.m., NCIS Headquarters, Abby's Lab**_

„_McGee!_

_Where the hell is everyone? Gibbs didn't even come to bring me my morning Caf shot!"_

"Abby..."

„_When you see him, tell him!_

_Or no, don't tell him, give him the stare!_

_Or better, give him the stare and say „Have you seen Abby today, Gibbs?"_

„Abby."

„_Oh McGee. I forgive you that you won't have the guts to do it."_

„Abby!"

"What!"

Something has happened. Tony has been shot this morning."

_"What!?_

_Please tell me it's not bad!_

"..."

_"Tim?!"_

„We don't know much, Abby. Gibbs's at the hospital right now, when I came in, the paramedics were already there.

„_But how bad is it?"_

„I said I don't know!

_"Timothy!"_

"It looked pretty bad."

„_Where was he shot?"_

„Here, up at the office."

„_No, McGee, where was he shot? Which part of the body?"_

"In the back, I think."

„_..."_

„Uhm... I brought the security tapes. We should probably take a look at them."

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_**10.35 a.m., Bethesda Hospital, waiting room**_

„It's been two hours now!"

„_I'm afraid there will be a few more of those, Jethro. Surgeries with gunshot wounds like this one are usually highly complicated."_

„Is there anything you can tell me about how it happened, Duck? You saw the... crime scene.

„_Well, from the angle he was lying on the floor, I can assume he was shot directly in the back, with the gun pressed to his body. _

_I believe there was a buffer, otherwise the wound would have been bigger._

_I'm sorry, I can't tell you more, Jethro._

_Tony is young and in good shape. He made it that far, he is going to make it out of this surgery, alive."_

„I know he is. He knows that if he isn't I'm gonna kick his ass."

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	2. Chapter 1

_**Chapter 1**_

Abby put the first tape on the screen, the one from the office. Her hands were shaking slightly, and McGee didn't feel any better, too. They had work to do, they had to solve a case, professionally. But knowing that the case was their friend and partner fighting for his life was something they had both wished to never have to do again. It had been too often that Tony was their "case", too many times they had been close to loosing him. It didn't get any easier. The unspoken question that plagued both of them was: Could it end well every time?

Abby forwarded the tape until the point were the elevator doors suddenly opened, 6.10 am.

"Oh Tony, why did you have to come here so early." Abby sighed, not really wanting to see what would happen next. Their attention was suddenly drawn to another figure on the scene, stepping behind Tony and pressing a gun into his back.

"What the hell..." mumbled McGee and tried to get a better look at the man, who didn't seem to be masked or hooded at all.

They were unprepared for how fast everything happened, and before they could brace themselves a jolt went through Tony's body and he fell to the floor, face forward.

Abby gasped, almost feeling the shot herself, and tears filled her eyes. McGee quietly took her hand into his. They watched as the unknown man crouched down next to Tony and then nonchalantly left the picture, disappearing in the elevator.

They both held their breath, as if waiting for something in the picture to change; Tony getting up or at least making a move, but nothing happened. Abby's heart seemed to be torn apart, as she watched her friend lying there so still and helpless. McGee couldn't bear it any longer, hastily he pressed the forward button. Nothing happened in the picture for a long time. Only the city behind the window changed, as it quickly came to life and the sun laid its golden light on the buildings.

Tim had never been one of the so called tough guys, every victim was hard to look at, but this was Tony, and the look was almost unbearable. They were supposed to look after each other, to protect the others back, that's how it always worked when they were in danger. And now there was his partner lying in his own blood, with no one having watched his six.

The timer showed 7.15 and Gibbs and Ducky entered the picture.

"Damn you Gibbs-man, why couldn't you come sooner!" Abby exclaimed.

She paused the tape and for a second they both stood there quietly, until she took a deep breath and with a steadier voice said: „Let's analyze."

* * *

Five hours. Ducky had been right. Surgeries like this one took long. Gibbs' mind had been a mixture of blankness, exhaustion and fury in these hours.

Blank, because all he did was stare at the sliding doors through which he knew a surgeon would eventually come with the bad or the good news. Good news would be that Tony was gonna make it. Bad news would be that he wasn't. It was that simple. He wanted Tony alive, he couldn't lose him, there was just no way he could.

Then the exhaustion. He was tired of it. He didn't have the strength anymore to fear for Tony's life. He'd already had this; he had been there, in the blue light, inwardly shaking with fear, on the outside acting calm and confident, giving Tony the order not to die. And Tony, in this unbelievable way of looking up at him, had followed his order; had taken the tiny rest of life still existing in his system and worked his way out of the awaiting darkness; stubbornly, proudly. And yet here he, his boss, stood again, waiting. Fearing that this time Tony wouldn't fight, or that this time he had come too late.

That was the thing that made him furious. He hadn't been there to protect Tony, and when he had finally arrived, Tony had been lying there for a long time, bleeding, alone. He had given him the order, again, but... had he been too late this time?

And then there was the bastard who had done this to Tony, walking around freely, probably already on the run. Alive. Gibbs was filled with a hatred he hadn't experienced since Ari.

Movement. The sliding doors opening. Gibbs standing, waiting, staring at the doctor walking right in his direction.

Ducky who had sat beside him raised hastily from his chair.

The doctor introduced himself as Paxton, shaking both their hands. Gibbs just stared at him, not in the mood for any formalities and friendliness.

"Why don't we sit down and I fill you in about Agent DiNozzo?" Paxton suggested kindly.

"I don't want to sit down, I wanna know if he's gonna make it." Gibbs barked.

Ducky cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, Dr. Paxton, we have been very worried and I'm afraid the six hours of waiting have made our nerves slightly. ... anxious." He glared insistently at Gibbs, silently pleading him to give the doctor a break.

"I understand that, of course." Paxton smiled with an uncertain glance at Gibbs, who looked as if he was going to explode any second. "To get right to the point then, I can tell you that Agent DiNozzo's stable at the moment, although in critical condition. If that doesn't change for the worse within the next twelve hours, he should be out of the woods." He paused, taking in their reactions: A little sigh of relief from Ducky, a barely visible shifting in Gibbs' face.

"It was a complicated surgery", Paxton then continued. "The bullet grazed a lung and we had to stop the bleeding first before we could remove the bullet - here it is, by the way" – he handed Gibbs a small plastic bag – "and stabilize his spine. He's on a ventilator right now, to help his lungs. If things develop well, we'll be able to take him off the vent in about twenty-four hours."

"Are you sedating him for this time?" Ducky asked.

"Actually we put him into a coma to save his body energy. But I'm pretty confident we can wake him up tomorrow."

Gibbs was hurting.

"What about the spinal cord?" Ducky asked.

"The bullet went right into the spine, crushing the ninth thoracic vertebrae. The damage to the spinal cord is extensive, and even though we were able to stabilize the spot and stop the bleeding in surgery ... -"

He was cut off impatiently by Gibbs, whose heart was racing. "Is he gonna walk or not?"

Paxton was slightly taken aback, but quickly regained his composure and so he firmly said what every surgeon feared most to say.

* * *

_To be continued_

_Be kind and review. Thanks._


	3. Chapter 2

"The bullet went right into the spine, crushing the ninth thoracic vertebrae. The damage to the spinal cord is extensive, and even though we were able to stabilize the spot and stop the bleeding in surgery ... -"

He was cut off impatiently by Gibbs, whose heart was racing. "Is he gonna walk or not?"

Paxton was slightly taken aback, but quickly regained his composure and so he firmly said what every surgeon feared most to say.

* * *

_**Chapter 2**_

"No. I'm really sorry."

Gibbs let out a desperate growl and slammed his fist into the wall next to him.

Ducky turned pale and whispered a shaky "Oh dear".

The surgeon was still recovering from Gibbs' outbreak.

"The injury is complete, then?" Mallard asked.

Paxton nodded. "Yes."

"Anyone care to fill me in about what that means?" Gibbs yelled angrily.

"It means that the all the nerves at the injured point were severed completely, which cuts off every connection between the brain and the body parts below the injury." Ducky explained softly, knowing how much it would hurt Gibbs to hear it.

Paxton, apparently feeling obliged to add something as the _real_ doctor in the scene, said it in a much more incautious way: "In Agent DiNozzo's case this means complete and permanent loss of sensation and movement below his waist."

These words hit Gibbs like a punch in the stomach. He was fighting hard to ignore the despair, the grieve and the fear building up rapidly inside him. Before he had a chance to recollect himself his cellphone started to ring and he absentmindedly pushed the answering button. "Gibbs!" he barked.

"This is Ziva."

Worst timing ever. Not Ziva. Not her. "What is it, Ziva?"

"Any news yet?" He could hear how she was trying to sound calm, but her exertion and fear could be felt almost physically.

"He's made it through surgery."

Ziva breathed out a short sigh of relieve, but the strain in her voice wasn't gone when she pressed on. "And is he going to be alright?"

It was too much for Gibbs. He didn't have the nerves, the guts, the words to have this conversation, not yet. "Ziva, I don't have time for this right now, and you have work to do. Is there anything else you want?" he yelled into the phone.

"Gibbs, just tell me how bad it is." She urged, almost pleaded.

He swallowed. "It's bad. Call me when you've got a lead about the shooter."

With that, he closed the cellphone with a snap and turned around, only to meet Ducky's eyes which studied him sadly.

In this moment something revived inside him; the feeling he needed now, like it was his only chance to not break down. "I have to get the bastard who did this. Duck, can you stay with Tony?"

"Where else would I be, Jethro."

"Call me if there's even the tiniest thing I need to know!" Gibbs said insistently but in a soft tone, before he turned and determinedly strode away.

* * *

Dumbfounded, Ziva stared at the beeping phone in her hand. "I hate it when he's doing this!" she then exclaimed exasperatedly. When she catched McGee's anxious, expectant gaze, the strain came back immediately. "This is bad. This is very bad, McGee."

"What - what did he say?"

Ziva shrugged wearily. "He said it was bad."

It wasn't the answer he had expected. "Gibbs said it was bad?"

She nodded.

"Oh that's not good", McGee murmured worriedly. "When Gibbs says it's bad it means that its like really, _really_ bad."

Ziva shot him a weak told-you-so look. They fell silent, and it was minutes later that Tim said quietly: "When Tony had the plague, Gibbs never said it was bad."

* * *

"If you have any further questions don't hesitate to tell a nurse and they will page me immediately." Paxton said to Ducky, as he led him into the dimly lit room.

"Thank you, Dr. Paxton." Ducky nodded and waited until the surgeon had left.

Only then he looked at the huge bed, which was surrounded by wires, tubes and monitors, and in the middle of it, flat on his back, with the ventilator tube leading its way out of his mouth, across his bare chest, the man who usually was so filled with energy, with strength. The ME let out a deep, shaky sigh. "Oh, Tony."

He quietly stepped forward and sat down in the chair next to the bed. "It's probably a good thing that they are letting you sleep for a bit, my boy", he said sympathetically. "You will have to face all this soon enough."

Once more he sighed, before he spoke again. "I know you are very determined to pull through this, Tony. You are perfectly aware of how much Gibbs needs you; how we all need you, and you are a good person, Anthony, that is why you would never give up now, and if it's only for those who need you."

Ducky paused and looked at Tony intently, just as if he would get a response from the still form on the bed. He then slightly frowned and worriedly added: "You do know they need you, don't you? I know they haven't always been fair on you, Tony, which I'm truly sorry for. I felt for you every time they didn't show you the appreciation or gratitude you would have deserved. But you know Jethro... And I believe – I hope – you always knew how he meant it."

He leaned forward and laid his hand on Tony's.

"Tony. I've known Jethro for many, many years now, and there has never, ever been anyone who came close to being like a son to him. Except you."

He gave Tony's hand a final squeeze and then leaned back in his chair. After a minute of silence, which was only disturbed by the rhythmical pumping noise that meant breath for Tony's healing body, Ducky chuckled softly. "If Jethro knew I told you this, he would most certainly start to call me 'Dr. Mallard' again."

* * *

When Gibbs entered the lab, he almost got strangled by Abby, who hugged him with a determination which was extreme even for her. "Oh Gibbs. Oh Gibbs!" she yelled into his shoulder. "Air, Abbs", Gibbs pressed out of his mouth, patting her back.

Abby reluctantly loosened her grip and then anxiously looked at him. "Tell me!"

Gibbs didn't avert his eyes from hers, which, however, cost him a big amount of self control. "I brought you the bullet." he said.

For a short moment Abby just stared at him incredulously. Then she exploded. "You brought me the bullet?? I'm going nuts down here, not getting any information on how my Tony is doing, except first McGee saying that it looked bad, and then Ziva saying that all you said was that it was bad, which obviously means it's like really, really, _really_ bad, and now you're walking in here and all you say is 'I brought you the bullet'? How can you, Gibbs-man!!"

Gibbs felt terrible. He knew he should have done better than that. But he felt strangely powerless against his own fear of the day's reality, and so he tried to escape her once again. "He's going to be fine Abbs.' he said softly, pulling her gently back into the hug.

Abby knew him well. She recognised the look in his eyes. Pulling back a little she searched his face. "Look me in the eye, Gibbs, and tell me exactly how he is really doing."

It wasn't that Gibbs didn't know how to lie. In fact, he was an expert when it came to hiding emotions or facts while still looking someone straight in the face. But this was Abby. He knew she didn't deserve this, she deserved to know about her friend and how he was really doing. Still, he just couldn't tell her what would eventually break her heart. "They stopped the bleeding and stabilized everything. They put him into a coma and will wake him up tomorrow." He fought hard not to avert his gaze under her intense stare.

Abby studied him suspiciously. "Is there any serious damage?" she then asked quietly, way too quietly for being Abby.

This was the point where definite denial was the only way to escape. Gibbs took a step away from her. "It's a gunshot wound, Abbs", he said, as if with that everything was explained. "What we need to know now is who caused it and that's why you are going to analyze this bullet now." His voice was losing its previous gentleness, the strain he had been able to hide until now causing a slight but clear edge in his tone.

Abby stared at him with a mixture of stubbornness and anxiety. "I know you're not telling me everything, Gibbs, and that's really not nice of you. I want to know what's going on with my Tony, now."

Gibbs glanced blankly at her before turning to leave the lab. "Just analyze the bullet, Abby."

She was quick. In an instant she had blocked his way, like she did so often, only this time it wasn't funny at all. "I swear, Gibbs, I'm not analyzing anything until you tell me what you're not telling me." Gibbs heard the slight tremble in her voice, which either came from her anger at him or from the fear of whatever he was hiding, or from both, and she was almost crying. He laid an arm around her shoulder and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. He lead her to the stool in front of her computer, and she sat down reluctantly, gazing up at him like a little girl.

"Tony's paralyzed, Abbs." Gibbs said so softly it was almost a whisper.

She didn't answer but just stared at him, speechless, hugging Bert.

"He's never gonna walk again." Gibbs wasn't sure if his voice had been able to stay steady, as he had lost control anyway. Telling Abby meant it was real. He knew there would have been ways to tell her less brutally, like saying that doctors could be wrong, or that Tony was going to walk, no matter what. But deep down Gibbs knew, with a heart-breaking certainty, that this would have been a lie. Telling the truth means you say it straight, the whole of it. That was what he had been taught.

Abby was now quietly shaking her head, her face wet from the tears that had begun to flow. "No", she said miserably. "It's not something Tony would do, Gibbs. He can't –", she pressed Bert even harder to her heart and the loud farting noise was accompanying her sobs. Gibbs held her in both his arms. "I know." he whispered. After a little while Abby's sobbing became softer and when she trusted her voice again she asked hoarsely. "Are they really sure, Gibbs? I mean doctors can be wrong, we know that, and this is Tony we're talking about, he survived the plague and all..."

There it was. Gibbs sighed and swallowed hard. She was looking at him with that pleading urge in her eyes, and not being able to make it better broke his heart. "Ducky has confirmed what the doctor said, Abbs."

Abby looked down, shaking her head again. "But Tony, he ... this is going to kill him, Gibbs." The thought made her cry again. Gibbs gently forced her to look him in the eyes. "No, Abby, it's not, because I won't let it. I promise."

It was only straws to clutch at; everything was still so bad that Abby felt like she could barely breathe. But there was Gibbs. And Gibbs had always meant hope to her. He would fix it, somehow, like he always did. "I think I will analyze this bullet now, Gibbs."

A smile crossed his face. "That's my girl." he said and, after giving her a final kiss on the head, turned to leave the lab. Suddenly Abby remembered something she'd almost forgotten to bring up; something very important: "Have you told McGee and Ziva, Gibbs?" she asked sharply. Gibbs interrupted his stride for a second, but then decided to ignore her question and walked on.

Abby threw her arms out exasperatedly. "They're his team, Gibbs! They have a right to know!" she yelled after him. But he was already gone.

* * *

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_


	4. Chapter 3

_Thanks a lot for all the reviews. Here's the next bit:_

* * *

_**Chapter 3**_

They jumped up simultaneously when they saw him walking out of the elevator. "Boss -" was all McGee managed to say, before they determinedly blocked the way to his desk. Ziva wasn't as insecure about their move as Tim. She respected Gibbs, yes, but unlike the others she had never been afraid of him. And now there was something they had to do and she had gladly volunteered to do the hard part.

"Gibbs", she spoke hastily. "I know we have a case to solve and aren't supposed to do anything but working and filling you in about the results, but we really have to tell you, we're Tony's friends, too, and you can't expect us to work like robots while we don't have a clue how he is doing. We really respect the orders you give us, but we have a right to know, Gibbs –"

Ziva stopped her fast speech to catch her breath, but also because she didn't seem to know what else to say. Gibbs just looked at them, calm, almost bemused.

"Are you done?"

Ziva took a second to think about it and then simply said: "Yes."

"Good." Gibbs stated and passed between the two agents, completing the way to his desk. Ziva and McGee just stood there sheepishly, wondering whether their boss had decided to simply ignore them. When Gibbs had taken his seat, he stared at them until they realized he was going to tell them now.

It was a nightmare for Gibbs, again; both of them looking at him expectantly and anxiously at the same time. "Tony is...", he paused, silently wondering whether there really wasn't a better way to say it. "The bullet damaged his spinal cord. He's paralyzed below the waist."

No, there definitely wasn't any good way to say it.

For a moment there was a dead silence in the cubicle. Ziva remained completely still and stared into space, wide-eyed. McGee, the same shock written on his face, swallowed hard, then anxiously asked: "What... what are they're gonna do about it?" When Gibbs just gazed at him questioningly, he added: "I mean, ... they can fix it, right?"

Gibbs' stare had remarkably softened during the last minute, and so had his voice. "No, McGee, it's permanent."

Ziva grabbed the edge of Gibbs's desk, as if to keep her balance. McGee whispered "Oh God" and mechanically walked to his own desk, where he sat down quietly and buried his head in his hands.

Gibbs felt helpless; the feeling he hated the most of all the unpleasant feelings. He was their leader and he was supposed to tell them what to do. It now felt as if he actually was supposed to tell them how to deal with this. But how could he possibly do that, not even having a clue how to deal with it himself?

Ziva's sudden comment saved him: "I'm going to kill the bastard who did this." she said, her voice fraught with hatred and pain.

"No, Ziva, you're not", he answered. "Because I'm gonna kill him first."

* * *

It was almost cruel how easy catching the bastard turned out to be. Gibbs had only to throw a glance at the surveillance video to know everything, and before Ziva and McGee could understand what was happening he was already yelling "Grab your gear" at them.

Peter MacCane laughed them in the face when they arrested him, enjoying Gibbs' fury in the sick, twisted way Gibbs had already gotten to know from him when he had arrested him ten years ago, after MacCane had "helped" Petty Officer Burton kill himself.

Gibbs didn't kill MacCane, of course. Neither did Ziva, but they had never seen her so mad, and if Gibbs hadn't yelled at her repeatedly - McGee was sure of that - she would have killed the man right there and then. MacCane had known exactly what he was doing to Tony when he had shot him right in the spine.

When they all came back to the office in the middle of the night, there was a strange sense of hopelessness in the air. Arresting the shooter hadn't satisfied them, their was no feeling of closure to it. The guy had paralyzed their partner on purpose, only to be waiting for them laughing when they stormed into his apartment. That was not how it was supposed to be and it was so unfair that Gibbs felt like having been slapped in the face.

When he quietly entered the dimly lit room in the ICU, Gibbs was too tired, his mind too blank to be angry anymore. All he felt was a huge rock clinging to his heart, and it didn't loosen its grip when he saw his agent lie there, way too still, monitored by half a dozen machines and ventilated through a tube. He stepped to the bed and just looked at him, then rested his hand on Tony's forehead, feeling the warmth, the life in there he needed to be assured of so badly.

"He is putting up a good fight, Jethro" said Ducky, who had quietly stepped beside him. Gibbs gently run his thumb over Tony's brow. "He always is." he answered softly, before turning to the ME, who looked very tired. "Thank you for staying, Ducky."

"Really no need to thank me for something so natural, Jethro. Nevertheless, now that you're here it might best for me to go home. I'm sure Mother is already driving our poor maid insane."

"Goodnight, Duck." Gibbs said, squeezing the ME's shoulder. After Ducky had closed the door behind him, he grabbed the chair and pulled it closer to the bed. He sat down, exhausted, and it wasn't because of a physical tiredness. He leaned forward and looked at Tony, again studying his unmoving form, and cursed softly. With a feeling like the despair was taking him the ability to breathe, Gibbs let his head sink into his hands with a deep, shaky sigh.

* * *

When Gibbs entered the office the next morning, slowly drinking his sixth coffee of the day, he found both his agents looking worn out and being unusually quiet.

"How is Tony?" Ziva asked immediately, and Gibbs noticed the dark circles around her eyes.

"Still resting", he answered, and quietly added: "Determined to live, so it looks."

Ziva and McGee said nothing, both of them lost in their own thoughts for a moment. Neither of them had slept well; in fact, Ziva hadn't slept at all, while McGee had given in to his tiredness around 4 a.m., after having stared at the ceiling for hours. He had been trying to catch a clear thought, some sort of professionalism or objectivity. Their job was risky, bad things could happen. Besides, he told himself, after all shouldn't he feel simply thankful that their partner was still alive? Again they had barely lost him, and again they still hadn't in the end. Why couldn't it feel so relieving like after Tony had been out of the woods when having the plague, or when he nearly had been killed by Jeffrey White? McGee almost felt ashamed of himself becuase it felt like... it felt like when Kate died. He knew it wasn't fair. Tony wasn't dead. And it wasn't like being unable to walk was equal to a death sentence, McGee knew that. Of course he was thankful that Tony hadn't died. Still, what made him feel so desperate was that image of Tony. Tony in a wheelchair. Tony unable to stand, Tony looking up at him. It just couldn't be true; it felt simply not possible. But every time McGee's mind was about to slip into the comforting feeling of impossibility, Gibbs' way too sad face reappeared in front of his inner eye. _"No, McGee, it's permanent."_ This definitely wasn't like the plague. The plague had been a nightmare, but at some point it had been over. Back then they had known that, after some fair amount of good care and rest, Tony would be back; everything would be as it had been before. This time there was no certainty, no light at the end of the dark path. Nothing would ever be as it had been before, especially not for Tony. Tony... _A little bit angsty today, Probie, aren't we? Nothing's ever for certain, McGeek, we of all people should know that. _Yeah, and yet that didn't help a bit when it came to reality.

"The Director gives us the week off", Gibbs' voice rang through the silence in the cubicle. "But I say we first get over with the reports. Shouldn't take long anyway. Not the most complicated case we ever had." His tone was bitter at the last sentence.

McGee swallowed. "Alright, Boss." he said as professionally as possible and after taking a deep breath began to type.

Gibbs's gaze wandered to Ziva, who hadn't moved a bit, and he frowned slightly. Her gaze was tightly fixed to a non existent point on her desk, and she looked somewhat pale. Then, with a sudden vehemence, she sprung to her feet. "I'm just going to the ladies room." she mumbled without looking up, and quickly left the cubicle. McGee, from behind his screen, shot a worried glance at Gibbs, who slightly shrugged and then brought his attention to his own computer.

* * *

"Um, Boss?", McGee began cautiously, when Ziva hadn't returned ten minutes later. "Don't you think we should, um ... do you think Ziva's alright?"

"Just give her a minute, McGee." Gibbs answered without looking up.

"Yeah well but, um, it's been almost fifteen minutes now, Boss..."

At this Gibbs gave McGee a stare that made him return quickly to his report, not daring to say another word. Only two minutes later Tim heard a soft grunting noise, and when he looked up Gibbs had raised from his chair and was already making his way out of the cubicle.

He couldn't enter the ladies room, of course. Hesitating for a moment he rolled his eyes, not liking the situation at all. "Ziva!", he then shouted, after clearing his throat twice. He didn't have to wait long. Only half a minute passed until she slipped through the door, slightly taken aback by how blatantly he was blocking her way. Her eyes were red and it was obvious she had been crying, although she tried to hide the fact by putting on a blank expression.

"You alright?" Gibbs grumbled.

She opened her mouth as if wanting to reply automatically, but then shut it again. Then she said bitterly: "If anyone of us would answer this question honestly today, Gibbs, it probably wouldn't be with a Yes."

Gibbs just looked at her and waited, slightly cocking his head.

The pose had its usual effect. Sighing deeply and leaning against the wall, Ziva let her guard down. "I just cant -", she began, then stopped and rolled her eyes. She looked at Gibbs with an almost urging look. "Tony is not going to take this, Gibbs", she said, suddenly sounding despaired. "It will break him, and you know it. He's not the kind of man who..." she trailed off, swallowing hard and averting her gaze.

"Then what kind of man is he, Ziva?" Gibbs asked calmly.

Fumbling for words, Ziva distractedly shook her head. "Well, you know. The kind of man who is... physical, whose believe in himself is largely based on his strength and on his power; on his energy, yes?"; Catching Gibbs' blank expression, she sighed exasperatedly. "Come on, you know what I mean, you're that way yourself. You would never take it."

Gibbs frowned and cocked his head even more. "If you think DiNozzo is that weak, Ziva, you underestimate him." he finally said.

"I don't think Tony's weak!", Ziva exclaimed. "I know he is strong!" She seemed sincerely hurt by his assumption. "But that's what I'm trying to tell you; he is strong, and he won't ... he just can't be..." she trailed off again, fighting hard against her welling up emotions. After a little pause she hoarsely said: "Tell me, Gibbs, can you imagine Tony as a paraplegic?"

Gibbs winced at that. The pain threatened to take over again, so he violently pushed the feeling away and looked Ziva in the eyes. "What's happened to your survival instincts, Officer David", he stated calmly. "You know that there's no point in asking ourselves if we can imagine something that definitely is reality; no matter if we feel like we can stand it or not. Tony needs us now, and whatever it takes, I'm not letting something like this break him. He's tougher than you may be thinking and if we help him believe, then he will believe." He almost whispered the words, as he always did when he was trying to make himself very clear.

Ziva stared at him, obviously having an inner fight going on. Finally, her expression calmed. "Alright." she nodded, pulling herself together.

"Good.", Gibbs said, and a sudden smirk played his lips. "McGee's probably thinking about reporting us missing by now. Shouldn't let the poor guy suffer any longer."

* * *

_As always, reviews are highly appreciated!_


	5. Chapter 4

_Thanks so much everyone for the great responses. Here comes the next part. Sorry it's only a short one. The next part will be longer again._

* * *

_**Chapter 4**_

"It's possible that he won't be very responsive when he wakes up. What is important right now is that we are able to wake him up at all..."

Gibbs didn't really listen to what Dr. Paxton was saying. He was too busy staring at Tony's unmoving form, as if this would help making him wake up sooner.

"It may take a minute or it can take several hours. The sooner the better."

"I once was in a coma myself, Doctor. I know how it works." Gibbs grumbled, and Paxton looked embarrassed.

Gibbs took Tony's hand in his and squeezed it gently. "Time to wake up, DiNozzo."

"Agent DiNozzo, if you can hear us, please try and open your eyes." the doctor spoke from the other side of the bed.

No one else than Gibbs would have noticed the almost invisible frown that was building itself on Tony's face. "He can hear us." he said, which earned him a very doubtful look from Paxton.

"Come on DiNozzo, you can do better than that." Gibbs whispered. It was almost nothing, but he could definitely feel a twitch in his agent's hand then, as if he was trying to return his squeeze from before. Gibbs smiled at that. He bent down and brought his head close to the younger man's. "Open your eyes, Tony." He said softly, but so determined that it was clearly an order.

The frown on Tony's face intensified. "He can hear us ." Paxton said triumphantly, and Gibbs rolled his eyes.

Tony was now obviously trying to open his eyes, which seemed to be an enormous effort. "You can do it." Gibbs said calmly. And finally the eyelids cracked open just a bit, and slowly Tony started to blink his way out of the darkness. When his eyes finally were able to focus on his boss, a satisfied grin appeared on Gibbs' face. "Good to have you back." he said gently and laid his hand on Tony's forehead.

For a short moment Tony's gaze simply held on to Gibbs' eyes, his own thankful, lost and vulnerable at the same time. It was only until he seemed to realize that he wanted to breathe. His hand made a weak attempt to lift itself off the bed, and his Adam's apple started to move up and down rapidly as he started to gag.

"It's OK, Agent DiNozzo, don't fight the ventilator. We're taking the tube out in a second", Paxton came into action. "Okay. Try to take a deep breath and let it out on three, alright?"

The tube came out quickly, and Tony hadn't even fully caught his breath yet when he opened his mouth and a raspy and weak "Bo-" came out, before he started coughing feebly. "You shouldn't try to speak yet, Agent DiNozzo", Paxton said quickly. "Your throat is still too sore from the intubation." Tony swallowed painfully and looked at his boss. His intent stare sufficed for Gibbs to understand. He leaned forward and gazed at him reassuringly . "Tell me, Tony." he said and brought his ear next to Tony's mouth. The whisper that came out was scarily weak, but intent enough that Gibbs noticed the pleading tone: "...have to get him."

Gibbs patted Tony's arm and nodded. He knew what he had to tell Tony right now, and it didn't matter if it meant lying to him. Right now, Tony needed to hear something that would keep him fighting. "We will, Tony. I promise." At that, Tony relaxed visibly, and he wearily started to close his eyes. "But DiNozzo?", Gibbs held him back. "I'm gonna need your help with this. So don't even think about giving up now. Is that clear?" The nod Tony gave him was so weak that Gibbs more sensed than saw it, but it was enough. "Good. Now get some rest. I'll be here when you wake up."

* * *

The next three days were nothing but waiting for Gibbs. Waiting and watching, hoping for Tony to come back soon and at the same time being relieved that his agent didn't have to face his new reality yet.

Tony slept and slept, on one hand because he was so weak, on the other due to the heavy doses of morphine they regularly shot into his IV. Gibbs was there all the time. He sometimes left the room to get some coffee or a sandwich. Every morning Ducky dropped by to bring Gibbs the latest news and breakfast. Not that the hospital staff wouldn't have brought him breakfast every morning, too, but he wouldn't drink and eat "that crap". Ducky and Abby kept telling him to go home for a good night's rest and a shower - one minimum - but Gibbs simply refused to leave Tony alone for more than a few minutes. He had promised he would be there when he woke up, and that could be every time. So he sat there, in the uncomfortable chair in the corner of the room, drinking coffee, dozing off and watching Tony. He was next to his bed every time the younger man started to whimper in his sleep, when the pain meds were starting to wear off. He would talk to him softly, telling him that he would be OK and he would hiss at the nurse to work faster with the new morphine shot. Sometimes Tony was awake, with his eyes open. But Gibbs had realized pretty soon that he was too out of it to really see him and comprehend what was going on. Besides, the only reason why Tony would wake up sometimes was that he was in pain. That was when the pain would get so bad that the normal dose of morphine wouldn't suffice, so that he was pulled out violently of his drugged dream. He was never responsive, though, when Gibbs spoke soothing words while waiting for the nurse to appear with the next shot.

Gibbs wouldn't even leave when the the doctors came to check on their patient during the mornig rounds, or when the nurses were taking care of Tony's hygienical needs. He watched when they cleaned him up, changed the gauzes on his chest and back and checked his vitals. He also watched when they were massaging the muscles in his legs twice a day, and rotating his ankles. That was the part Gibbs hated the most. It was the part that unmercifully reminded him of the fact that Tony was paralyzed now, and he wondered if the thought would ever cease to hurt so much.

On the fourth day, Tony came back.

* * *

_As always, please make the author happy by sparing a minute to leave a review._


	6. Chapter 5

_To those of you who left me a review again: Many thanks! _

_To those of you who feel like they've had enough of all the angst: Sorry to disappoint you, because here comes the next bit..._

* * *

_**Chapter 5**_

It was early afternoon, and Gibbs was just trying to read a newspaper and having his fifteenth coffee of the day when he heard a soft moan coming from the bed. He looked up from his newspaper, with the unimpressed routine he looked up every time Tony moaned. When he found his agent's eyes slightly open, he didn't react at first and already wanted to bring his attention back to the paper, when he caught something in Tony's eyes that was different from all the other times he had been "awake": Tony was looking straight at him.

Never taking his eyes off Tony, Gibbs slowly rose from his chair and approached the bed, not entirely sure whether he was just imagining it. But Tony's eyes really were different and his tired gaze followed Gibbs' movements. "You with me, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked softly.

Tony swallowed painfully before he opened his mouth. "Hey, Boss".

His voice was hoarse, barely a whisper. Gibbs grabbed the cup of water on the bedside table and held the straw to Tony's lips. "Easy" he mumbled as Tony drank gratefully. The few sips of liquid considerably helped him to speak with less effort. "What day is it?" he asked tiredly.

"Friday."

"Friday...", Tony repeated, and then looked back at his boss. "Have you been here all the time?"

"Told you I would be here when you wake up." Gibbs said and carefully sat down on the bed, next to Tony's hip.

It took Tony a moment to talk again. "What about the case?"

"We got him, Tony." Gibbs said softly. "He confessed and is locked away." He watched as the younger agent was slowly taking in the fact.

"He confessed what." Tony then said quietly, more to himself.

Gibbs studied him for a moment. "How much do you remember?" he asked.

Tony answered immediately. "Everything -... I think." He hesitated, and his expression became clouded. Gibbs calmly waited for him to go on.

Tony was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. "Right before he shot me, he said something, Boss. He said that he knew you and that I should give you a message from him... Turned out that shooting me was the message."

Gibbs nodded slightly, never stopping to look at him. "I know." he said gently.

Something in the tone of his voice let Tony's gaze turn back to his boss, slowly wandering to the spot where Gibbs was sitting on the bed, then back to his face. What Gibbs now saw in the other man's eyes was fear.

Tony swallowed. "I'm not gonna walk again, am I, Boss."

If Gibbs's heart hadn't been broken before, this was the moment it broke. He would have done everything to give his friend a different answer, and the sadness washed over him. He slowly shook his head. "I'm so sorry, Tony."

Although Tony had already expected this, the panic obviously threatened to break out the moment he really heard it. He struggled to keep his breathing even and his face tensed up in an effort not to show. "And here I thought the plague was the worst I could get." he said huskily.

For the first time in what seemed like years, Gibbs had no idea what to do. He wanted to let Tony know that he was not alone, but he didn't know what his agent needed from him right now; whether it was silence, or words, or a touch. So he just sat there and watched as Tony, who was still fighting against losing his composure, fixed his gaze on an invisible spot on the ceiling and tried to breathe .

When he couldn't stand the sight any longer, Gibbs laid a warm hand on Tony's forearm. "Tony. Look at me."

First nothing happened, but after a while Tony reluctantly turned his eyes to Gibbs, needing all his inner strength not to look away again.

"I wish I could take this away from you, but I can't." Gibbs said softly. "What I can promise you is that I will be there. You're not gonna be alone in this."

Tony didn't say anything, but swallowed a couple of times and blinked hard. Finally, his breathing evened.

Gibbs knew that he should have called for Dr. Paxton the moment Tony had come around, but he had deliberately waited until now. "If you're ready I'll call your doctor so he can take a look at you and explain everything."

Tony swallowed. "Okay." he said hoarsely.

Gibbs pressed the buzzer and a few seconds later a nurse appeared in the door. "Good to see you're back with us, Agent DiNozzo." she chirped when she registered Tony's alert state.

"Get Dr. Paxton." Gibbs growled and just glared at her. Everyone in the staff was afraid of Gibbs, especially the chirping nurse, and so she obediently turned around and went to find Paxton, not daring to say another word.

* * *

As much as Gibbs disliked Paxton, he had to give him credit for the sensitive way in which he dealt with Tony while checking him up and explaining his injuries to him. He didn't talk more than necessary and didn't bombard Tony with complicated details or too many questions. It actually surprised Gibbs that Paxton seemed to be able to put aside his ambitions as the all-knowing doctor and respect Tony's fragile state.

Tony quietly listened while Paxton showed him his x-rays, told him about the damage the bullet had done. Gibbs didn't move an inch from Tony's side, worried about what he saw in his eyes while he let the doctor speak. He looked incredibly tired, not only physically, and there was a blankness in his expression that scared Gibbs.

Paxton explained the most important things only; the extent of the paralysis, the reason for the immense pain Tony had been experiencing and what they had done in surgery to stabilize the spine. Gibbs noticed that he didn't even brush the subject of all the other implications that came with paraplegia and, seeing Tony's face, Gibbs was glad he didn't. Paxton seemed to know that the little information he was giving right now was more than enough for Tony to deal with in one day. From time to time Gibbs saw Tony struggling with his breathing again, whether it was because of the pain or the lurking panic, or both, he couldn't tell.

When Paxton was done with explaining, he studied Tony empathically. "I would like to do some tests while we're at it. How are you feeling?"

"Okay." Tony mumbled.

Gibbs inwardly braced himself for what he knew would be a nightmare for Tony. He took one step closer to his agent's side and watched him worriedly while the doctor carried out his examination. He started with testing Tony's strength, telling him to squeeze his hands as hard as he could, to lift his head off the mattress, to inhale and exhale as deeply as possible. He then slowly worked his way down from Tony's chest, testing his level of sensation. Just above his navel Tony couldn't feel the pen anymore. Gibbs only realized it when Tony remained silent and didn't say "yes", as Paxton had told him to every time he would feel it. His gaze wandered from Tony's abdomen back to his face and winced when he saw the anguish in his friend's eyes. Paxton had interrupted his exam and sympathetically said that they were almost done.

After he had tucked Tony in again he once more asked about his pain level. "It's time for your next dose soon." he added when Tony didn't really give him an answer.

"For how long will I have to take the heavy drugs?" Tony asked abruptly.

Both Gibbs and Paxton stared at him, puzzled. It was the first thing besides "okay", "yes" and "no" he had said in over an hour.

"That's actually hard to tell", the doctor then replied. "It depends. Eventually we will have to take you off the strong meds, but for now the relief they bring you definitely can't hurt."

"But eventually we'll have to stop anyway, right?" Tony pressed on.

"Eventually yes, unless we want your body to get used to them too much."

Tony seemed to think about that for a moment. "Lets stop now." he finally said.

"Agent DiNozzo," Paxton started emphatically, after gasping for air. "There is no need for you to force yourself through that. It is _a lot_ of pain we're talking about here.'

"Yeah, I kinda noticed that." Tony said dryly and then gazed decidedly at Paxton. "I don't want the heavy meds."

Gibbs had to smile then. _"Occasional difficulties in following rules"_, he remembered once having read in a certain file. When he noticed the support-seeking glance Paxton flashed him, he only shrugged. "He will handle it."

* * *

A few hours later, Gibbs wasn't so sure anymore. Tony was in agony and it was hard to just sit there, not being able to help. The Ibuprofen they had given him now instead of the morphine didn't seem to have much of an effect - or Gibbs didn't want to know how bad the pain would have been without any meds at all. Fact was, Tony was in so much pain that he was moaning and panting almost constantly. After two hours of watching him suffer, Gibbs made his first and last attempt.

"DiNozzo. All you have to do is give me the thumbs up and you'll have the morphine in a second. You don't have to do this."

Tony just pressed out a determined "Yeah I do" through clenched teeth and concentrated on his breathing. When the wave had ebbed away he opened his eyes and looked tiredly at Gibbs. "I don't wanna be as out of it as in the last week, Gibbs. I don't wanna be number than I already am." he said feebly.

Gibbs studied him for a moment and eventually nodded. He was about to sit down in his uncomfortable chair again when a new wave of pain washed over Tony and the young agent tensed up and stifled something that sounded like a sob. Gibbs jumped up from his chair and was at Tony's side in a second. He took Tony's sweaty hand in his and let him squeeze until the pain subsided again. When the younger man opened his eyes which had been squeezed shut, Gibbs could see the tears that had formed in them and winced inwardly.

"Boss?"

"Yeah, Tony?"

"Don't take this the wrong way, but... when was your last shower?"

* * *

_Do I need to say it? Okay: Please review...!_


	7. Chapter 6

_You guys are great, thanks for the great fee__dback! Et volià le next chapter:_

* * *

**_Chapter 6_**

"Ziva, you've been throwing paper balls at Tony's desk for ten minutes now, and... I hate to break this to you, but the desk is not going to fight back, no matter how hard you try." McGee stated, slowly starting to feel hypnotized by Ziva's movement.

"I know", Ziva shrugged. "But imagining him sitting there and getting hit by them is at least something." She threw one last ball and then sighed, clearly not satisfied with the game.

"You could throw paper balls at me." McGee suggested sympathetically.

"McGee, that is really nice of you to say, but... it wouldn't be the same as with Tony." When she saw the expression on his face, she quickly added: "Not that teasing you cannot be very funny, as well! But fighting somebody who is so clearly inferior to my skills just doesn't give me the satisfaction I need."

"Well, um, thanks Ziva, that makes me feel so much... better." McGee grimaced, just when his attention was drawn to the coffee-cup-holding figure who had stepped out of the elevator. "Boss!?"

"Why did you take a leave of absence if you are coming to the office anyway, Gibbs?" Ziva said wearily.

Gibbs shot her a look. "Not a leave of abscence, Ziva" he corrected and took a sip of his coffee.

"Well technically it is one, Boss", McGee said matter-of-factly. "At least officially."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "When was the last time you saw me care about 'officially', McGee." Tim considered that for a second and then just nodded thoughtfully.

The story behind Gibbs' official unofficial leave of absence was simple: He wanted to be able to spend time at the hospital whenever Tony would need him - or in that matter, rather when he would think that Tony needed him. Which didn't mean, however, that he wouldn't be able to work during the rest of the time. 'Work" in this case meant sitting in the office and watching Ziva and McGee suffer under the desk duty they had been assigned to until further notice.

"How is Tony?" McGee asked cautiously, still feeling strangely anxious when bringing that question up.

"Stubborn." Gibbs replied and took another sip of coffee.

"That is not a real answer, Gibbs." Ziva grumbled from her chair, and Gibbs frowned at the sudden sinister look on her face.

Later, when he and Ziva were alone in the elevator, Gibbs glanced pointedly at her. "You should go see him."

Ziva's face turned slightly pink. "Who said I wouldn't?" she replied a little too aggressively.

Gibbs just stared at her. "There's no need to be afraid of what you will find there, Ziva."

Ziva sheepishly avoided his gaze and cleared her throat, but remained silent until the elevator came to a stop.

"Just go see him, Ziva." Gibbs said again, before he stepped through the sliding doors.

* * *

When she was standing outside Tony's room that evening, she tried to take deep breaths. It wasn't that she didn't want to see Tony, she missed him, actually. But the mere thinking about what had happened to him twisted her heart and, yes, she was scared. She felt stupid for it, but she was scared of not being able to handle the situation.

Finally, she stepped in quietly and raised an eyebrow at what she saw: Abby, who was sitting on the edge of his bed, was rubbing what appeared to be a pink ice cube over Tony's forehead, who seemed to be sleeping restlessly.

"Are you rubbing Tony's face with Caf Pow ice cubes, Abby?" Ziva hissed pointedly.

Abby just shot her a "yeah, so?" look and whispered: "He's in a lot of pain and I'm being creative."

Ziva shook her head at that and then took a closer look at Tony. He had become very slender in the past week, and it had been a while since she had last seen him so unshaven. His ragged breathing betrayed the serious pain he was in and the exertion written on his face shocked her. Ziva swallowed hard and tried to push away the hurt building up in her chest. "Where is Gibbs?" she asked, just to say anything.

"I sent him home." Abby replied. "I mean seriously: The man was stinking."

Ziva took a few indecisive steps towards the bed. She was at a loss, especially with Abby there... Distractedly she picked up Tony's medical chart and flipped through it without even seeing the words.

"So it's only the two of us, then, yes? Where are all the other women now, all the _hot dates_?" She immediately regretted her comment. She didn't even know why she had said it.

Neither did Abby, who stared at her in shock. "Ziva!" she hissed. "That was mean!"

"It's okay, Abbs. She's only pissed because she didn't get me laid before it was too late." Tony's voice made Ziva jump out of her skin. "You're awake, Tony?" was all she could say, and she stared pointedly at Abby, who hadn't even blinked and apparently had known.

"Yeah, Zee-vah, I am." Tony said wearily, without opening his eyes. "Abbs, could you dim the light a little more?"

"It's already on the lowest level, Tony." Abby answered apologetically.

"Oh.. Never mind. But thanks for the ice cubes. They do smell interesting, by the way."

He then fell silent again.

They didn't talk for a while, Abby sympathetically running ice cubes over Tony's brow; Ziva standing there by the foot of the bed, feeling stupid and emotional and worriedly watching Tony; Tony moaning softly from the pain, never opening his eyes.

Ziva would never have thought that Abby could be so silent. In this moment she secretly admired - no, envied her for the ability to be so… cordial, to never be afraid of letting her guard down. She was sure, Abby was hurting as much as she was, seeing Tony like this, but she seemed to either handle it better or to be simply able to put her own feelings aside to be there for him.

Tony's sudden loud groan and the pained contortion of his features alarmed both of them and Ziva instinctively hurried next to the bed. Abby let him squeeze her hand, while with the other she soothingly stroked his head. When his breathing was getting more even again, the two women automatically turned to look at each other for a short moment. Ziva saw tears in the young goth's eyes, only now realizing how much energy it cost Abby, too, not to break down.

"Don't they give you something for the pain, Tony?" Ziva asked softly.

She wasn't sure if he had heard her, as he didn't react and seemed to be concentrating on his breathing.

"He's playing hero and refusing to take the meds." Abby answered in his place.

"Not… playing", Tony panted through clenched teeth. "Have to stop anyway."

Abby ran her hand over his cheek and, glancing at Ziva, shrugged wordlessly. Ziva frowned and opened her mouth. "Tony -" she began, but was interrupted by Abby, who was pointeldly gazing at her and shaking her head. "I've already tried."

Minutes passed, and the pain shooting through Tony's body didn't seem to be subsiding at all. When he let out something like a small cry, Ziva couldn't stand it any longer. "That's enough." she said with a trembling voice and abruptly left the room.

"Where're ya going?" Tony panted weakly, and then to Abby: "Where's she going?

"I think she went to force someone to give you a shot, Tony..." Abby replied softly.

* * *

"Have you ever considered to just ignore his stupid decision?" Ziva yelled exasperatedly at the nerdy young resident phycisian with whom she had been arguing for the past ten minutes.

"Well, I'm afraid it's not that simple –"

"What do you mean, 'not that simple'! Haven't you been listening? He doesn't want the pain to stop because he is afraid and doesn't want to be weak!! Don't you realize how wrong that is, and how bad for his recovery?!"

"As I said, Miss Darbit –"

"David!!"

"– I'm sorry: Miss Duhveed - we have to respect a patient's wish if he is alert enough to be aware of the consequences and if it doesn't pose a direct threat to his life. Agent DiNozzo seems to be fully aware of the consequences when he decides to renounce the pain medication, and - "

"Argh! I cannot believe what you are saying here! Aren't you listening! Of course he is fully aware of the consequences, you idiot, he can't even sleep because he is in so much pain!!" Then, suddenly reconsidering her tactics, Ziva exhaled slowly, calming herself down. She took a step closer to the young doctor, forcing him to back off until he was practically pinned against the wall. "Are you aware", she began with a very different voice now, the whispering one, "that too much pain can kill a person? I have seen people die solely from the pain they were in. A single shot of morphine could have saved them, but they died, because they were refused the medication..." Now the nerdy resident swallowed hard and desperately looked around, hoping to see someone who could rescue him. Ziva sighed, not entirely sure if the second tactic had been such a good idea either. There was one last thing, though, which she hadn't tried... "Do you know who Special Agent Gibbs is...?"

* * *

Fifteen minutes later Ziva came back to Tony's room - bringing with her the chirping nurse. Abby silently nodded, breathing out a sigh of relief. Tony, who had now opened his eyes, stared coldly at Ziva. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Ziva." he whispered.

"No, Tony", she replied calmly. "What the hell do YOU think you are doing."

Tony started to shake his head but interrupted the movement when it produced stinging pains in his back. "If I don't want the fucking pain meds, then I don't want the fucking pain meds.", he hissed stubbornly. "Why is that so difficult for you to accept!"

"Because, Tony", she said wearily, "you are wasting way too much of your strength here. When was the last time you slept, really slept; without pains waking you up all the time?"

"I slept for four days", Tony insisted agressively. "I was so out of it I didn't even recognize my own boss! So please forgive me, Ziva, if I prefer not to feel like a vegetable anymore and...–" he suddenly stopped and blinked slowly. He looked at Abby, who looked at the nurse, who had just shot the morphine into his I.V. "Damn."

His tired gaze wandered to Ziva again. "You had no right, Ziva." he whispered, and the the coldness in his eyes felt like a slap in the face to her. She swallowed hard and watched as his eyes slowly closed. "Just sleep, Tony."

* * *

_As always, reviews could make me happy..._


	8. Chapter 7

_Hope you'll like the next chapter..._

* * *

**_Chapter 7_**

Gibbs hit the stop button of "his office" with the usual determination. "What the hell were you thinking?!"

For a moment, Ziva just stared at him, not entirely sure whether he really expected her to answer that question. What had she been thinking? Not much, probably. It had been her emotions and instincts that had been essential in the decision. "What was I thinking, Gibbs?" she repeated, frowning. "Well, first of all I was probably thinking‚ my partner is trying to kill himself very slowly and somebody has to stop him!"

"By threatening a doctor and deciding over Tony's head?"

"What else was I supposed to do Gibbs?"

He raised an eyebrow. "You could have called me?"

Ziva sighed. She was aware of the occasional abruptness of her actions, and she knew that her ways weren't always the gentlest ones, but that was just how she worked. And it somehow felt unfair to her that, just because she wasn't all sweetness and circumspection, her caring for others wasn't even taken as such. "Tony is really angry with me." she said quietly, and the memory of the way he had looked at her made her grimace.

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "What did you expect, Ziva. He's a grown man and you made a nurse shoot morphine into his IV line when he was in no condition to do something about it. What do you think DiNozzo's ego might look like these days?"

"Is that why you didn't stop him? Because you didn't want to hurt his pride?" Ziva asked sternly.

Gibbs averted his eyes under her gaze. "Maybe." he replied softly, and it was more to himself that he said it.

Seeing his reaction, Ziva decided not to press on. "So you think, too, that I did the wrong thing?" she asked instead.

Gibbs flashed her a glance. "I didn't say that." he replied, and, with a smirk on his lips, pressed the button once again.

* * *

"Probie? What are you doing on up there?"

McGee almost fell off the ladder he was balancing on. "Jeez, Tony!" he moaned, once recovered from his shock. "Never do that again, okay! Weren't you asleep until a moment ago?"

"Oh I'm sorry, McGee, I should have said something before I actually said something.. – Why are you grinning at me like a baboon?"

McGee was grinning like a baboon because he had just realized how good it felt to hear Tony's voice again – even though it sounded much huskier and weaker than usual. "Well I, um... I guess I'm just glad to you see again, Tony."

"Why, good to see you too, Tim." Tony smiled. "The view is a bit weird though. I know I should get used to the perspective, but don't you think the ladder is a bit of an overkill?"

"Oh. I, uh..." McGee hastily climbed off the ladder and circled the bed to stand next to Tony. He noticed his partner's face turning unreadable for a moment as he was watching him from his horizontal position. "I thought I'd install a DVD player for you..." Tim began to explain. "Gibbs said that you have to, um, still lie flat for a while, so I thought... I know how much you hate cable TV only, so... I brought you some collections, Bond and Magnum P.I. ... and I was going to adjust the angle of the the screen, so that it's more parallel to you. Yeah, um, hope it works." Why did he suddenly feel so embarrassed?

Tony gazed at him quietly for a second, having something going on behind his eyes McGee couldn't quite identify. "Thank you, Tim." he said softly.

McGee nodded. "You're welcome." He couldn't help but notice that there was something missing from Tony's smile, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. And there was something in his eyes that made McGee hurt inside.

Now that Tony was awake, Tim was glad he had had time to recover from his shock of seeing Tony so fragile while the other man had been asleep. DiNozzo had always been able to detect even the smallest insecurity in him with one glance – and the gasp, the few hard swallows and the telling himself to stop acting like a baby when he had entered the hospital room for the first time, would have been quite difficult to hide. But every time McGee had come to the hospital, Tony had been sleeping. "Did _I_ wake you up, by the way?" Tim now asked. "Sorry if I made too much noise with the ladder and stuff."

Tony slightly shook his head. "Don't worry about it." he said, suddenly sounding very exhausted. "I think I'm gonna dope off pretty soon again anyway."

McGee nodded and then looked around. "Um, is there anything else I can get you? Anything from your apartment? Oh and I have to warn you, Abby will probably be bringing a whole bunch of decoration items with her the next time she comes in. Positive energy, you know, that kind of stuff." He turned to look at Tony again and raised his eyebrows at what he saw. "Pretty soon, huh." he mumbled and, chuckling softly, climbed back on his ladder.

* * *

When Gibbs was there, they never talked much. Usually he just sat in the uncomfortable chair and drank coffee. Sometimes he read something, sometimes they watched TV – although neither of them was really watching. Tony's gaze was mostly somewhere else, somewhere in the void, where it was hard to reach him. And he continued with keeping his eyes closed a lot of the time, even when he wasn't asleep. Gibbs had a feeling that it didn't only have to do with the pain, or the dizziness that sometimes came over him. No, it seemed like a simple way to shut the others out, and to shut the hospital out; the hospital which was the most brutal reminder that all of this was real.

Gibbs just let him, for all kinds of reasons. One was that he didn't want to force Tony to talk, not if staying quiet and keeping his eyes closed was maybe what he needed right now. Everyone had their own way to deal with this, and maybe the best was to just give Tony time. Another reason was that Gibbs, even if he hated to admit it to himself, still felt strangely helpless. Doing something wrong now was the last thing he wanted, and yet the nagging feeling that maybe something, anything had to be done kept coming back to him. Seeing his usually so energetic and talkative agent like this worried Gibbs. It hurt, and it was unsettling. He hoped that Tony's retreat would pass, but what if it wouldn't? What if DiNozzo had already given up?

"Boss?", Tony's hoarse voice rang through the silence in the hospital room at once. "What's his name?"

Gibbs took a long sip of his coffee, considering how to react. He had wondered when that moment would come. Pretending not to follow, he gazed questioningly at Tony.

"Don't, Gibbs." Tony said softly, not buying the act at all.

Gibbs furrowed his brow and raised from the chair to sit on Tony's bed. "His name is Peter MacCane. The first time I arrested him was ten years ago." He paused, unsure what to else say and doubting if it was a good idea to tell Tony more.

But Tony was already pressing on. "What did you arrest him for?"

"Homicide." Gibbs said shortly, not wanting to go into the topic of MacCane's twisted ways.

Tony sighed. "Stop acting like I'm made of china, Gibbs." he said, a provocative look in his eyes.

"Oh I know you're not, DiNozzo." Gibbs said, shaking his head. "I just don't know what the point of telling you about this is."

"Well, maybe I just want to get to know the guy who put a bullet in my spine." Tony replied sarcastically.

Gibbs said nothing and concentrated on his coffee.

"Why did he do it, Boss?" Tony whispered eventually, and Gibbs knew he wasn't talking about the murder ten years ago. He swallowed and lowered his gaze. He wished he could give Tony a real answer to that, an answer that didn't sound like a bad joke. So he helplessly shook his head and looked at him with sorrowful eyes. "He's just an insane bad guy. There's no other reason why he did it, Tony." Tony looked away and exhaled shakily.

They both lapsed into silence, and the white room was filled with unspoken anger and grief. It felt to Gibbs as if Tony's pain was lowering itself onto them like a heavy mist, withdrawing all air to breathe. Tony had closed his eyes once again; and Gibbs couldn't tell whether it was from exhaustion or because he had backed away into his dark place again. So he sank back into his chair in the corner and waited.

He didn't know how much time had passed when Tony was suddenly looking at him again. "You don't have to do this, Boss, you know", he said quietly. "Sit here all the time."

"Don't you think that's for me to decide, DiNozzo?" Gibbs murmured.

Tony averted his gaze, biting his lips. "Look, I know you mean well, Boss, but... I just don't want you to feel like... " he trailed off, apparently feeling uncomfortable with what he was going to say.

Gibbs flinched inwardly. It was so like Tony to think that someone would stay with him only because they felt obliged to. "Do you want me to leave, Tony?" he asked softly.

Tony didn't answer right away. He seemed to be struggling with himself somehow. He exhaled slowly, looking at his Boss. "No." he said shyly. "Not really."

Gibbs nodded and leaned back in his chair. "Good. Because I wouldn't leave either way, Tony." he said gently. "Not even if you were throwing things at me."

* * *

_Be kind and review, people!_


	9. Chapter 8

_So sorry for the long interruption. Just too much work at the moment. Anyway, I made it. Hope you're all ready for the next portion of angst ;)_

* * *

**Chapter 8**

Two hours of sitting and waiting wasn't something she was used to. She had tried pacing back and forth, but that hadn't felt right either. She couldn't walk around restlessly while Tony was quietly sleeping in the same room. Ziva sighed and stretched uncomfortably, then looked at her partner. His sleep didn't look peaceful at all. The way he was knitting his brows made her wonder what he was dreaming about. She assumed that it wasn't something nice when an anxious groan escaped his lips

Ziva hesitated, then quietly raised from her chair. "Tony" she whispered. It wasn't loud enough to wake him, of course. Instead his breathing quickened even more and he unconsciously clutched the bed sheet with one hand. Ziva bit her lips in sympathy. "Tony", she repeated, "It is only a dream." She reached out tentatively and laid her hand on his arm.

Tony flinched under the touch and awoke with a start. Panting, he looked around in confusion. When he finally seemed to remember where he was, his facial expression shifted from anxious to pained. Only then he seemed to become aware of Ziva, who still had her hand on his arm and was worriedly watching him. Embarrassed, he licked his lips and quickly put on a stony face. Ziva winced when she saw that the look in his eyes was of the same coldness as the last time she had seen him. "Sorry to wake you", she said, trying to sound casual. "You were having a nightmare." Averting her eyes, she walked back to her chair and sat down.

"You been here long?" Tony muttered, after a moment of silence.

Ziva shrugged. "Maybe two hours, I think."

He glowered at her. "Why?"

Ziva frowned. "Why not?" she replied, ignoring the edge in his voice.

"Maybe because you're not exactly the hanging-out type, Zee-vah." Tony said, his tone unexpectedly aggressive.

Ziva sighed and rolled her eyes. "So you are still mad at me because I gave you the pain medication, yes?"

Before he had a chance to answer, they were interrupted by a nurse who walked into the room. "Time for a change of perspective again, Agent DiNozzo!", she announced cheerfully. "Lets put you on your right side, shall we?"

Tony glared at her. "You know, I wish you wouldn't always try to make everything sound like the greatest fun ever." he snapped.

When the nurse just ignored his comment and pulled down his blanket, Ziva decided that it might be best to give Tony some privacy there.

"Oh no, you can stay, honey", the nurse said when she saw that Ziva was about to leave the room. "This will only take a second."

Ziva hesitated and looked at Tony, who, of course, averted his gaze. She bit her lips. If she stayed he would feel uncomfortable. But if she left now anyway, he would think that she felt uncomfortable. Sighing silently she sat down again and watched as the nurse first bent his legs and then firmly grabbed and turned him onto his right side, quickly placing a supporting pillow behind his back. Tony bit his lips at the movement and forced back a whimper. "Just breathe through it." The nurse murmured reassuringly and soothingly ran her hand over his shoulder for a moment. Finally, she put a pillow between his legs and, after asking if he felt OK, left the room again. Ziva looked at her partner who was still breathing heavily through the nose, obviously fighting against some kind of nausea. As she saw him lying there like this, propped up on his side, unable to move, all of a sudden it hit her brutally: Tony would never walk again. Of course she had known that. But seeing him like this now, it suddenly seemed to manifest so clearly. He would never be able to stand on his own. Never. Never ever? She felt a lump building in her throat and inhaled shakily. Her strongest impulse was to run away. God, when had she started to become so weak? She forced herself to look at him again. "Is the pain still very bad?" she asked.

Tony swallowed and gave himself a second to speak. Then he grumbled: "Why don't you tell me, Ziva, I thought you were the expert when it comes to pain."

She rolled her eyes in annoyance. "Oh for God's sake, Tony. I was doing you a favor!"

"Oh, really?", he replied mockingly. "Well just for your information, I didn't ask for it."

Ziva sighed. "Fine, you do not want to get it now. One day you will be thankful for it."

He snorted cynically. "Sure, one day I'll be immensely thankful for what you did for me that night - one day, when all of this is over – oh, wait! It will never be over! So thanks a lot, Ziva, for NOT making a difference!!"

He actually yelled the last words. Ziva looked away and tried not to feel hurt. Tony seemed to quickly realize that he had gone too far. "Sorry." he said quietly.

Ziva shrugged and swallowed against the lump in her throat. "Perhaps being angry at someone helps you right now. And if it has to be me, I can live with it."

Tony said nothing and instead closed his eyes. Ziva sighed silently and stood up. "I have to go now." she said hoarsely. "Try to be nice to the annoying nurse. I see you tomorrow."

* * *

Once outside his room she leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. All the tension inside her from bottling up her emotions fell apart to turn into exhaustion. Muttering Hebrew curses, she wearily shook her head and rubbed her eyes when they started to fill with tears.

"I totally know how you feel, Ziva."

Dumbfounded, she looked up. Abby had magically appeared next to her, a sympathetic look in her eyes. Slightly embarrassed, Ziva straightened herself a bit. "More decorations?" she asked, referring to the plants Abby was carrying with her.

Abby shrugged. "In a room like this, there can never be enough of it. Seriously, I've always hated hospitals. I mean what are these… hospital designers thinking? Who invented the weird idea that a sterile environment has to look sterile? Take my lab: Totally sterile. You won't find a single evil tiny bacteria in there, nada, but it's like really nice for simply hanging out, too, right?"

Ziva nodded obediently. "Your lab is really nice for simply hanging out."

Abby looked satisfied. Noticing the sorrowful look in Ziva's eyes, she placed her plants on the floor. "Are you okay?" she asked. "You don't look really... Ziva-like today."

Ziva considered evading the question and pretending to be fine, but decided against it. "Do you sometimes feel as if all this was a nightmare?" she sighed.

"Are you kidding?" Abby replied sadly. "Since this happened to Tony, every morning when the alarm goes off I need a second to realize it hasn't only been a bad dream."

"He snapped at the nurse." Ziva said quietly.

Abby made a face. "Oh. He did that yesterday, too. And it's so wrong. Tony loves nurses! The last time he was in the hospital, he flirted with all of them, even the really ugly and fat ones, and even though he was kinda half dead. But this snapping thing now: Not good. I mean if Gibbs snaps at nurses he's just being normal. If _you_ snap at them it's… well, it's just what you do. But Tony? No way. Really wrong."

Ziva nodded gloomily. "And he hates me, because of what I did the other night."

Abby stared at her in sympathy for a moment, and then, on impulse, hugged her for a short moment. "Oh Ziva, I'm sure he doesn't hate you. I mean, he snaps at nurses! He'll get over it."

Ziva, recovering from the sudden hug, shrugged and remained silent for a moment. "What if he will not get over it?" she then said quietly.

Abby knew that now Ziva didn't mean Tony's anger at her. She uttered a sorrowful sigh, but then vigorously shook her head. "We can't think like that! It gives Tony a bad vibe. We need to give him a good vibe. He will never give up as long as we don't give up on him."

Ziva gave her a look. "Did Gibbs say that?"

"Yep."

"Is he not worried at all?"

"Ziva! Are you serious?? Gibbs is in agony!"

"So how does he do it, then? Dealing with this."

Abby gazed at her in disbelief, a somehow pitying look in her eyes. She placed a hand on Ziva's shoulder. "The biggest open secret of NCIS, Ziva: Gibbs loves Tony. He is so much like a son to him that Gibbs would do everything for him - like, really everything. Gibbs needs Tony. Tony needs Gibbs. Works like -" she made her two index fingers intertwine "-this."

Ziva nodded impatiently. "I get it. But it does not change what is happening with Tony right now. I mean, just look at him, he…" she broke off, suddenly feeling on the verge of crying again.

"I know." Abby said softly. "Gibbs says it will get better."

Ziva stared doubtfully at her. "You really believe that Gibbs is always right, Abby, yes?"

Abby raised her eyebrows. "Uh, no", she drawled. "I don't believe that Gibbs is always right, but I _know_ that he never breaks a promise. And I think you know it, too."

"So?"

"So? Gibbs promised he would not let Tony give up." Abby said emphatically.

Ziva got lost in her thoughts for a moment. "I guess you are right with what you said about the good… vibe." she finally said. In the next second, she suddenly found herself hugged again. "I'm glad we talked." Abby said sincerely, before she bent down to pick up her plants. "Way to go, Ziva." She winked amicably and then disappeared in Tony's room.

Ziva just stood there for a moment and stared at the door, pondering, and then slowly made her way down the hallway. "Way to go…" she mumbled to herself. "What does «way to go» mean…?" She hadn't heard that idiom before. Shrugging, she decided it probably didn't mean anything important...

* * *

_Reading is great. Reading and reviewing is greater...;_)


	10. Chapter 9

_OK, today, especially for -Tat, a short summary of what happened in the last chapter:_

_Ziva is visiting Tony and is hurt to see him so helpless and to find out that he is still mad at her. When she confronts him about the latter he reacts very aggressively. ("Sure, one day I'll be immensely thankful for what you did for me that night - one day, when all of this is over – oh, wait! It will never be over! So thanks a lot, Ziva, for NOT making a difference!!"). Ziva tries not to show in front of Tony how much it hurts her to see him like this. After she leaves, she meets Abby, who gets Ziva to open up to her. _

_Of course there was more, but I suck at summeries, sorry ;)_

_Here comes the next part (afraid a shorter one), hope you'll like it._

* * *

**Chapter 9**

Two weeks later, not much had changed. Everyone of them went to see Tony almost every day – except for Gibbs, who went home almost every day. To the hospital staff's horror, Ducky's concern and Tony's embarrassment, his life continued to evolve around that hospital room. He left when there was a reason for it, and only then. And such a reason was always connected to what he thought Tony or the team needed. If he had, for instance, a feeling that it was better to give Ziva or McGee or Abby some time alone with Tony. Or when he saw that Tony needed some space for a while. One way or the other, he was always around, never far. Dr. Paxton had gotten used to the fact that Gibbs wanted to talk to him every day, to know exactly how Tony was doing. It didn't seem to matter that on most days there wasn't anything new to tell.

Ziva continued to cry after her visits. It had become a strange routine; going in, acting confident and calm, walking out, feeling drained and despaired. But she had been trying to follow Abby's "good vibe" rule, and partially, it even worked. She kept telling herself that everything would get better and that Tony was strong enough to pull through this. But whether hope or no hope, the thought of what he had lost and seeing the fear in his eyes hurt her more than she would ever have expected. Wasn't she, actually, the one who was supposed to be tough, the one who had seen it all? That had been her part in this team anyway. But all the roles seemed to have shifted now...

A stranger probably would have said that emotionally, not much was wrong with Tony. Except for the occasional snapping at nurses, there was nothing about his behaviour that would have showed his pain openly. As he was getting stronger by the day and didn't need that immense amount of sleep anymore, he was much more alert now. He actually did watch the DVD collections McGee had brought him, or at least pretended to. But the team saw something else: He didn't talk much, was mostly taciturn. He had stopped to smile. Not physically, because of course he did fake a smile when being polite or when trying to make a joke. But these smiles never reached his eyes, and they were seldom enough, too.

McGee was concerned about the teasing. It had stopped, at some point almost completely. As much as Tony's making fun of him had annoyed Tim before, the sudden absence of it now was much worse. Provoking each other, all the time, just had been a part of their friendship, an important one, and above all, they had had fun with it. These dynamics were suddenly broken now, and it left McGee at a loss. He often didn't know how to deal with Tony. Suddenly his partner was nice to him, constantly; polite even. And ironically, that polite part was the one that worried McGee the most and made him feel insecure.

Abby saw Tony walking, all the time. It was a thing she didn't seem able to stop, no matter how hard she tried. Every time she closed her eyes when going to sleep, every time she had a quiet moment in her lab, she saw Tony walking. Or running, or jumping, or jogging. She told Tim about it and he knew exactly what she meant: "Every time I see Tony's desk, this picture of him running after a suspect appears in my head. I don't even remember the case, it must have been a year ago or so. Whatever. It's just that picture. Tony chasing the guy down that long alley, grabbing him, handcuffing him, grinning at Gibbs. I can't shake it off, Abby, I just can't…"

* * *

Gibbs stood in the doorway, silently studying his agent. Once more he became a witness of what happened these days when Tony thought that no one was watching. All the masks had slipped away completely and left was the face of a hurt, terrified young man.

Pulling himself out of the pondering, Gibbs straightened himself and stepped into the room.

His sudden appearance startled Tony, making him gasp. "Hey, Boss!" he exclaimed much too cheerfully, and immediately started to cough. Switching abruptly from forcing down a lump in one's throat to yelling out fake enthusiasm did that to a person.

Gibbs quickly walked to Tony's side and took the cup from the tray next to the bed. "Here, drink some water." Sliding his hand under Tony's neck, he helped him lift his head a little. Tony groaned involuntarily when stinging pain shot down his back. After he had taken a few sips of water he averted his eyes in embarrassment. "Sorry." he whispered.

"Don't apologize."

A fake smile passed over Tony's face. "Right. 'Cause it's a sign of weakness."

"No", Gibbs replied gently, "but because sometimes even a federal agent is allowed to be weak."

His words hit Tony completely off guard. Something inside him broke down all at once, and, unable to do something about it, he suddenly had to fight very hard against the tears that were threatening to well up in his eyes.

"It's okay, Tony." Gibbs said softly.

Tony took a very shaky breath and closed his eyes for a moment. One single tear forced its way out from under his eyelid and ran down his temple before it dripped onto the the pillow. "I don't think I can do this, Boss." he then said in a shaky voice.

Gibbs' heart filled with sorrow and fear when he realized what Tony was actually saying. He leaned down and firmly looked Tony in the eyes. "Now you listen to me carefully, DiNozzo, 'cause I'm only gonna say this once.", he whispered intently. "I will not loose you. So you better don't even start thinking that you can't do it. Damn well you can. If anyone can do this, it's you. You're one of the bravest men I've met in my entire life, and I don't care what it takes to get you through this, but: I will not lot loose you. Do you hear me?"

Tony just stared at him and nodded silently, speechless; for one thing because he was too busy taking deep, steady breaths, for another because he could hardly believe what his boss had just said to him.

Gibbs nodded sternly in return and straightened himself to sit on the edge of Tony's bed.

"Thank you, Boss." Tony said hoarsely, when he finally trusted his own voice. Gibbs silently answered with a nod again. Tony had no idea that he, too, was struggling for deep breaths. It wasn't easy; being deeply worried and at the same time being the one person that had to be strong for him.

Tony swallowed hard. "I'm scared as hell, Boss." His voice quavered dangerously and was barely a whisper.

Gibbs bit his lips and gently squeezed Tony's shoulder. "I know." he said softly.

There were no words left to say, and this time, is was more than one tear that escaped from Tony's eyes to drop onto the pillow.

* * *

_Please don't forget to review :) Thanks_

**PS:** As there seem to be some misunderstandings about Tony's pain, I better explain something. Spinal injuries cause huge amounts of pains. Those pains can vary from patient to patient. Some even experience phantom pains in the body parts they can't feel in reality. A very common kind of pain, however, is back pain (naturally, since it is the spine that is injured), and, especially when the injury is still healing extreme pain up and down the spine. And when I write that Tony feels sharp pains in his spine, then I'm saying nothing more than that he feels pain where he can actually _feel_ it: Remember, he's still got feeling from about the waist up. I'm sorry if what I wrote came off wrong, but I'm afraid Tony's pain is not a sign of a healing process. Complete spinal injuries cannot be cured (yet). Oh and another thing: When Gibbs or Abby talk about "not giving up", it's NOT supposed to mean "not give up until he walks again", but "not giving up on life"...

Sorry again about the confusion, People. Cheers


	11. Chapter 10

_**Yes guys, it's true, I am back! I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am for just disappearing for more than a year... Real life has just been too consuming. To all of you who sent me messages and reviews encouraging me to continue: Thanks! I highly appreciate it! I can't promise that the story will be finished any time soon**, **but as you see I haven't forgotten about it and also never will and there will be more chapters after this one.**_

_**So here we go, the next bit. No action, but we finally get to see what has been going on in Tony's head :)**_

**Chapter 10**

The moment just after waking up was always the worst of the day. Not that he slept exactly well, the nightmares seemed to come more often now, but the emptiness that was awaiting him when he woke up was like a punch in the face, every time.

It always started with the realization that he was paralyzed. It was like his brain still wasn't able to grasp that fact yet, because there was that very short instant, the instant between sleep and full awareness, where he felt normal. Just like Tony DiNozzo waking up. But then he wanted to shift, to stretch, to roll over - and that was usually the moment when he remembered. That his body - or the half of it - didn't work anymore. And every single day it was a shock. Then his hands would frantically reach down to touch his hip, his thighs, because the sensation of not being able to feel the lower half of his body still made him panic.

He didn't tell that to anyone, of course. But when there were nurses in the room, they usually noticed, mostly because they either heard how his breathing suddenly quickened, or because they saw the look on his face. Most of the nurses always chose to ignore it and they just went on with whatever they were doing, wishing him a good morning. But there were also two or three of them who would gently lay a hand on his arm and softly speak a few comforting words before tending to his daily routine. He wasn't sure if he liked that or not. It was embarrassing. But sometimes it also helped a little. Besides, there were so many other embarrassing moments he had to go through every day that one more didn't exactly make a difference. All the other things were far worse: Being rolled over by these nurses without being able to help. Not even being strong enough to lie on his side without cushions supporting him. Seeing the nurses massaging and moving his legs without being able to feel it. Having them take care of his bodily functions. It was so humiliating that the only way he knew how to deal with it was getting angry at them, even though he knew it wasn't fair.

They told him everything would get easier with rehab, where he would learn to do all that stuff by himself. But as long as he had to be lying horizontally so that his spine could heal properly and as long as he was so weak, it was simply a state of total dependency. And thinking about rehab didn't make him feel better anyway. It made him feel worse. In fact, thinking about anything made him feel worse. Because every thought lead to the one thing: that he had no idea how to live like this.

When he had first woken up after the coma, with the ventilator tube still stuck in his throat, the only thing that had mattered was telling Gibbs about the shooter. That he was dangerous and that they had to get him fast. Then looking into Gibbs' eyes and hearing his reassuring voice was everything he needed to calm down - even though he knew there was something else, something itching at the back of his mind, something that was very wrong. But he felt too exhausted, too heavy to remember what it was and so he slipped into his deep slumber, knowing that Gibbs had his back. The days that had followed after that were nothing but a haze in his memory: Dreamless sleep, interrupted by pain, muffled voices, blurry images.

Then coming back to consciousness, seeing an unshaven Gibbs sitting in a chair, he suddenly remembered everything. He remembered about the feeling of the gun being shoved against his spine, about the shot ringing out, about the pain, about lying on the floor and not being able to get up.

That moment, when he saw Gibbs sitting there and it all came back to him was probably the moment he knew he would never walk again. He just needed to hear it from Gibbs. And his boss actually didn't even have to say anything, because his face spoke volumes. Tony had never seen Gibbs look at him like that, with such pained, compassionate and apologetic eyes. He would never forget that face.

He knew the team was worried and he knew they waited for him to open up. He knew that Gibbs talked to Dr. Paxton every day, he knew that Abby was not as happy as she pretended to be and he knew that McGee wanted him to be a pain in the ass again. He also knew that the stunt Ziva had pulled with the morphine shot was her way of showing that she cared, and he knew that she sometimes cried because of him.

He knew it wasn't fair that he had shut them out. And sometimes he tried really hard to act like everything was normal. He would fake a smile and try to say something funny and pretend to be interested in whatever DVD he was watching. But it was just too exhausting to keep up for long. The emptiness inside him was too big to beat. Besides, they knew him too well to buy the act. So the only thing he could do was retreat from them as much as he could. Also, not talking to them, not looking them in the eyes made it easier not think about his situation. He hated it when everything he wanted to forget about so desperately was forced onto him by clashing with the reality of his friends' presence. That was the reason why having Ziva see him in pain and so helpless had been too much for him and pushing her away was the only thing he could do. That situation had confronted him with everything that the two of them had been and no longer were. They had been partners, friends, a dynamic duo. They had been teasing and scanning each other, playing a game he had sometimes loved and sometimes hated. And now all that was left of them was him lying in a hospital bed, weak and broken and her looking at him with an expression on her face he almost couldn't bear.

The days went by in slow motion and in fast forward at the same time. There was nothing else than emptiness, fear, fake smiles, a fast talking Abby and a stern Gibbs, palpating doctors and chattering nurses. And mental exhaustion. Tony didn't know which was the bigger strain on him: the constant trying not to break down or the not being able try harder.

"There are two ways to do this, DiNozzo", Gibbs said one day. "The first is to face it and deal with whatever is to come and the second is to give up before you've even tried. The second way is not an option."

Tony didn't want to hear that. Trying not to think about it was his only way of doing this right now. Dealing, that was not an option, he wasn't ready for it. And he felt like he would never be ready. But a month had passed and before he knew what happened he was forced into facing it, whether he wanted or not.

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_To be continued_...

_Reviews are most welcome, as always :)_


	12. Chapter 11

_**Hey everybody. Long time no see , I know. But I'm still here, and still not abandoning the story. Sorry it always takes so long, but I'm one of those writers who have to really, really *feel* it. I hope you're still interested, even after all this time.**_

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**Chapter 11**

"How does that feel? Any pain? Nausea?"

Tony clenched his jaw, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to block out the feeling of falling forward .

He heard the nurse sigh. "Tony, this is not going to work if I don't get any feedback from you. It's important that you tell me if this is too much."

A warm and firm hand squeezed his shoulder. "DiNozzo. Come on."

The calmness in Gibbs' voice made him open his eyes. Immediately the room began to spin and he felt the bile threatening to rise.

"What's wrong?" He heard Gibbs ask the nurse, but his voice seemed strangely far and engulfed by some ringing noise.

"Tony?", He felt the nurse's hand on his forearm. "I'm going to lower the angle a bit, all right? You wanna take long, deep breaths, okay?"

The ringing noise grew louder as he felt the bed beneath himself shift. 'Stop', he wanted to tell her, but his tongue didn't obey him and his lips felt strangely numb. It took all his concentration and strength to whisper the one word he needed to hear her: "Sick".

The moment he said it he felt the bile rise and he started to retch._ Too late_, he thought, and was sure he was going to choke on his own vomit. But somehow, as if they had speedy superpowers, two practiced hands immediately turned him onto his side in one swift movement; and from the opposite side of the bed two other hands, warm and firm, supported his weight and cupped his head.

When there was nothing more in him to throw up and the nurse was sure the sickness had subsided, she gave Gibbs a nod and together they eased Tony gently onto his back again.

Gibbs' face appeared over him. A deep worry line ran across his forehead as he patted Tony's arm.

From the right side, the nurse's face came into his field of vision. "Better?" she asked him a little too loud, probably apprehending to get no reaction again.

Tony nodded.

Like from out of nowhere, she produced a damp cloth which she placed on his forehead. The coolness was an unexpected relief and he heard himself sigh involuntarily.

"There you go. Now if you think you can hold it down, I'm gonna give you a sip of water. What do you say?"

Again, nodding was all he managed.

She held a cup to his lips and slightly supported his head as he drank. The water helped to revive his parched throat. After two sips she took the cup away and he licked his lips. With a shaky hand he took the damp cloth from his forehead and wiped his face with it. Only now he dared to lift his gaze. "I'm sorry." he croaked.

The nurse shook her head and smiled reassuringly. "It's a very common reaction, Tony. You've been lying completely flat for almost two months now. It takes a moment until your body gets used to being half upright again."

She paused and her gaze became stern. "But do you understand now why it's so important that you tell us how you're feeling? We need to know whenever you feel pain, when you feel sick, even when you feel fine. Rehab is team work, and we can't work with you without your help."

Tony hated it, but he suddenly felt like crying. What had become of him?_ I used to be a man once. _He averted his eyes from the nurse's gaze.

She mistook the reaction as stubbornness and sighed. "Or lets put it this way: If you don't talk to us, we can only guess and work with what we see. It can somehow work that way, but let me tell you, the results won't be half as good as when you make this a two-way street."

The more she talked, the more ashamed Tony felt. What was he supposed to say? He was exhausted and had just humiliated himself - once again. Did he really have to spell it out for her? It took all his emotional effort to meet her stare again. "I said I was sorry." he said pointedly, his voice huskier than he would have liked it to sound.

"This is not about criticizing you, Agent DiNozzo. Stop apologizing."

The last statement earned her a chuckle from Gibbs, who had been watching the exchange silently. When Tony turned to look at him, his gaze fell upon the mess he had made on the left side of his bed. His cheeks turned red. _And I can't even clean it up myself. _

The nurse read his mind. "Don't worry about it. I'm just gonna clean you up very quickly and then give you some time to rest. We'll make another try with raising the bed up a little in an hour."

When she saw the alarm in his eyes, she quickly added: "We're going to take it very slow, Tony. But we've got to get your circulation flexible again. Okay?"

He attempted to form a smile. "Okay."

After the nurse had changed the sheets and helped Tony out of his dirty T-Shirt and into a new one, she left the room.

* * *

When they finally were alone, Gibbs sat on the edge of Tony's bed and looked his young friend in the eyes. "It's gonna get better, Tony."

To that, Tony could only snort. "Oh? Thanks."

"Shutting down's not gonna help you here, DiNozzo -"

Tony cut him off. "You have no idea how hard I'm trying, Gibbs."

"I know you do. But you're trying the wrong way. You're trying so hard not to let anyone but me see how you feel that you actually do yourself more harm than good."

Tony clenched his teeth and looked away.

"This is rehab, Tony."

"Rehab? I had no idea! Thanks for telling me, Gibbs. I see things so much clearer now."

Gibbs rolled his eyes at the sarcasm. "If you hadn't just puked all over the place, I'd head-slap you right now, DiNozzo."

The remark took Tony a bit off the edge. He held Gibbs' gaze and shrugged, exhausted. "What am I supposed to do, Gibbs. I can't ... I ...I don't know how to...I..."

Gibbs grabbed his forearm with sudden vehemence. "Stop thinking that you've got to be stronger than the rest, DiNozzo!"

Tony stared at him, blankly.

"You wanna know what you're supposed to do, Tony?", Gibbs continued with intenstiy. "You're supposed to DEAL. Not dealing with stuff may have worked in the past; when your mother died; when Kate died; Paula... - It's not gonna work now, DiNozzo. This is not gonna go away. You won't just be able to forget this. This is reality. You're a paraplegic, and you're in rehab. Deal with it."

For what seemed like an eternity to Gibbs, Tony said nothing. His face had turned bright pink and his eyes were glassy, but he didn't move. Gibbs was waiting for the explosion, convinced that Tony would start yelling at him any second. But Tony remained still, and after swallowing long and hard, he said soflty: "Please go. I'd like to be alone."

Gibbs furrwoed his brow and stood up from the edge of the bed. "See you tomorrow, Tony."

Tony nodded slightly and blinked hard. "Yeah. Tomorrow."

* * *

After Gibbs had closed the door behind him, Tony continued to lie still. He didn't make a sound. Then he grabbed the cup of water on his bedside tray. He threw it across the room so that it shattered with a loud noise as it hit the wall.

Then he cried.

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When the nurse returned after an hour, he said: "I smashed the cup".

She nodded in understanding. "You got angry, huh."

"Yeah."

Afterwards, as she was slowly rising his bed-head, he told her: "It feels like I'm falling forward..."

The nurse smiled.

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_**To be continued**_

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**_Please be kind and leave a review. I'm grateful for every word :)_**


	13. Chapter 12

_**There you go, another update. Put people, please don't leave without a review. Feedback is really important for a writer. Thanks.**_

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**Chapter 12**

After Gibbs had closed the door to Tony's room behind him, he stood and waited. The smashing sound didn't come unexpected to him, but it made him wince nonetheless. When he heard Tony's muffled sobs, he briefly considered going back in, but he knew that wouldn't do any good. Cursing softly, he forced himself to take a step away from the door.

As he slowly made his way out of the rehab center, Gibbs sighed and rubbed his tired eyes. He had managed to not let Tony see it, but saying those words to him had been anything but easy.

_"You're a paraplegic, and you're in rehab. Deal with it." _Even replaying it in his head now made him cringe.

He knew saying that to Tony had been a brutal thing to do. But it had been necessary. This was his agent's reality now and somebody making him face it had been overdue.

_"Deal with it."_ The truth was, Tony wasn't the only one who needed to deal. They all did. Gibbs' instincts still made him hope for a miracle sometimes, which he knew was wrong and stupid. His gut told him that the last thing Tony needed, was being treated with velvet gloves. From anyone. He would have to talk to the team about that. They all still tended to tiptoeing around Tony sometimes, even if he was far from being in the fragile state he had been seven weeks ago.

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Arriving at NCIS, Gibbs took the elevator to Ducky's. He found the ME bent over a dead body he was just telling about some engrossing experience he had had in the Congo twenty years ago.

"Jethro!" he exclaimed, minutes later, when he finally became aware of his friend's presence. "I'm sorry, have you been standing there for long?"

"Long enough to hear about the snails." Gibbs smirked.

"Ha, I'm afraid my new friend here has brought up one too many memories there." He put down the scalpel and took off his rubber gloves. "I didn't expect you to be back so early. I thought you would spend the majority of the day at Tony's."

"Well, turns out I didn't." Gibbs muttered.

Ducky frowned. "How is he doing?"

Gibbs shrugged. "Aside from the fact that he probably hates me right now, he's not exactly embracing rehab."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that.", Ducky sighed. "I was hoping the change of scene and prospect of learning how to be independent would motivate him. On the other hand, he's only been there for two days, Jethro. - Have they started working with him yet?"

"They're trying." Gibbs snorted.

"That sounds terribly like our Tony."

"Yeah." Gibbs paused. "They let him sit up today. Just 30 degrees. Because he was too damn stubborn to say early enough that he was dizzy, he almost passed out and had to throw up."

Ducky grimaced sympathetically and nodded. "Many patients who lie horizontally for such a long period experience those symptoms. Perhaps the bed was risen too rapidly?"

Gibbs shook his head. "The nurse did it gradually and kept asking him if it felt okay. DiNozzo didn't even think about opening his mouth."

It was the ME's turn to shake his head. "Tony, Tony, Tony." he muttered. "What are we gonna do with the poor boy?"

"I might have already done something." Gibbs muttered.

"The thing he hates you for right now?"

Gibbs' expression clouded. "I told him it was time he started dealing with his condition and... ah the hell, for him it probably felt like I basically told him he should start living his life as a cripple."

"Honestly, Jethro, that does sound somewhat brutal."

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "I didn't say _cripple_! And Ducky, I have tried it with understanding and empathy, with pep talk and patience. It's time he got a kick in his ass."

"I hope you're right, Jethro.", Mallard said thoughtfully. "Tony has indeed always needed a strong hand from time to time."

Gibbs tiredly ran a hand across his face. "I wish I could help him, Duck."

After a moment of silence, Ducky said: "Have you talked about his future?"

That made Gibbs snort. "He can't even handle the present."

Ducky cocked his head. "But how can he handle the present if he doesn't see a future?"

Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "Not bad, Dr. Mallard."

Ducky chuckled mildly. Then his gaze got stern as he eyed Gibbs thoughtfully. "I take it you still haven't talked to the Director."

Gibbs grimaced. "You know me too well."

He had been avoiding a thorough conversation with the Director ever since the shooting. Partly because he was too angry at NCIS. What had happened to Tony should never have been possible in a high-security complex and yes, he kind of blamed the Director for it. The other reason was exactly what Ducky had just hinted at: He didn't want to loose Tony as an agent, but was painfully aware of the fact that a position like the one before the shooting would not be possible for a paraplegic. And as Tony wasn't the only one who wasn't particularly good when it came to dealing with stuff, Gibbs had been avoiding the argument he was certain he and the Director would have about this.

The ME sighed. "It's none of my business, of course, but, the sooner you deal with this, the better are Tony's chances. He is one of those people who need a purpose in life. What has always been most important to him is to be important to other people. If he doesn't feel needed or appreciated anymore, he starts feeling - and acting - like and abandoned child. You should know that better than anyone, Jethro."

Gibbs smirked. Ducky never failed to impress him with his sharp eye for psychology. "All right", he grumbled. "Guess it's time for that talk with the Director."

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_**To be continued...**_

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_**Again, reviews are highly appreciated.**_

_**Also, I accidentally double-posted. There is no Chapter 14 yet. Sorry!  
**_


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